The Ghost of You
by PlatinumAndPercocet
Summary: 'And all the things that you never ever told me, and all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me' Ghosts don't always take a corporal form, sometimes they can haunt us in different ways. Drabble-fic.
1. Never Coming Home

**What I Own: A disgruntled Siamese cat, a set of red pans and a signed picture of 100 Monkeys**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. I think that is obvious by the fact that I spend a vast part of every day in front of a computer screen at a real estate agency. I'm not making a penny on this piece of fiction.**

**Author's Note: I just shouldn't be allowed to be unsupervised. I also shouldn't be able to listen to music. Basically, I need an adult, at all times. This popped into my head out of NOWHERE as I was trying to convince myself that I needed to do my job. I pretty much blame my playlist, because music and feels are so intrinsically connected. It is not, in any way, shape or form related to either of my other two fics. It is, however the first in a series of drabbles… The likelihood of any one part being more than 500 words is slim to nil. I'm not going to promise regular updates because it is one of those spontaneous things that just NEEDS TO GET OUT OF MY HEAD. Like I said, this is part one. Feels ahead and a warning for a character death. I'M SORRY OKAY? PLEASE DON'T HATE ME. Reviews make me bounce in my seat more than a pixie stick and red bull bender, although you'll probably wanna yell at me instead and that is okay too. I highly recommend listening to the song while you read but I am a sadist. **

**At the end of the world  
Or the last thing I see  
You are  
Never coming home  
Never coming home**

**~The Ghost of You, My Chemical Romance **

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

It was a mantra at this point, the thought passing through my mind so much it seemed like it had always been there.

'Remember to breathe.'

I'd always laughed when people reminded me to breathe, as though it was an easy thing to forget. It was automatic, your body did it for you, unconsciously, why in the hell would you need to think about it?

And then one single moment, my world stopped spinning and I knew.

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I couldn't see… nothing. Everything just stopped, everything but the pain and that, well, that never stopped, it was all encompassing.

That's a lie. The memories, they didn't stop, not even when I wanted them to.

Black and white images flickering on a constant loop through my mind, every moment from the sublime to the mundane, they haunted me, all the things that I'd said, that he said… I could still hear them as if they were spoken yesterday but they were somehow muffled as though I was underwater.

I couldn't turn them off, not even when I slept, especially not then. In dreams it was easier to forget about the absence, to pretend everything was okay again but something was just not quite right… everything was just a little too bright, pictures that I knew were askew were hung perfectly straight. The coffee mug, his favorite one that I'd chipped the day he had surprised me at the dishwasher, was smooth and unblemished.

I wasn't sure which was worse, the dreams or the memories, they were both beautiful torture in their own way.

The pills helped, sometimes. Waking up screaming at three AM, drenched in sweat, a gunshot still ringing in my ears, they provided a brief salvation. Trembling hands shake one small tablet out of the bottle and I swallow it dry, its bitter and scratches going down but it is proof of what is real, what I still have even as the cold sheets and empty space beside me remind me of what I have lost.

The bright smile, complete with dimples that were so rare, captured in a spontaneous moment, shined out from the picture frame on the nightstand, breaking my heart all over again, taking my breath with it and the mantra would begin again.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.


	2. What If This Storm Ends

**What I own: A RIDICULOUS amount of lip products. (Seriously… I have 20 in my desk right now), A collection of dessert-based cookbooks and a cup full of colored pens.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, still not mine. I have the DVD's though, so yes for that. I'm making nothing off this piece of fiction. **

**Author's Note: Another drabble. I know. It's happy this time, I promise. These are supposed to be disjointed, and are purposefully told out of order because that is how the idea came to me and it wouldn't go away. HOPEFULLY, this one will have a better impact than the last because I love y'all and don't want to make you throw up. Reviews make me grin like a movie star and are rewarded with prattling conversation and praise because y'all just rock. I can't promise sneak peeks over here because that isn't how this little ditty works but I am hoping to have something new for you elsewhere soon. Questions, comments and theories for where all of the single socks go in the dryer are more than welcome in PMs or on twitter. I love to talk with y'all. ANYWHO, now that I have babbled… here you go!**

When I was little I hated the rain, thunderstorms especially. It was mostly after Claire left , though I didn't know why. There was no significant event, it wasn't raining the night she vanished, I never got stuck in a downpour waiting for dad to pick me up at school, nothing like that. I just… hated it.

Sam had laughed at me the first time I'd stayed with him during a storm, peeking under the blankets that had been tugged tightly over my head in a vain attempt to keep the thunder that was shaking the windows out. Of course he had laughed, that deep chuckle of his sending shivers down my spine while strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist, soft nonsense whispered in my ear until I fell asleep, despite the storm raging outside, because that is what he did.

Being Sam, however, he never missed an opportunity to tease me about my aversion to the meteorological events, or how I 'foolishly' planned what little time off we had together around the weather. It was one of the only things that I couldn't control and it drove me insane.

If I hadn't known it was impossible, I would have said he'd planned it but even he couldn't control the weather. We were outside the city, one of our rare days off together since we'd 'gone public' as it were and we were heading out of the city. I had no idea where and no amount of pouting and pleading was making a difference, earning me little more than a grin and free reign over the radio which was a happy distraction.

The sky was clear and a beautiful bright blue when we had left, the sun still low and bright on the horizon but as the miles passed the clouds started rolling in, heavy and menacing.

By the time the truck finally rolled to a stop, the sky was a dark grey-green, the air outside was almost crackling with electricity. Hopping easily out of the truck, I followed reluctantly, my hand warm in his as he headed across the green field.

The thunder rolled when we were halfway across the wide open space and I huffed glancing up just as the first raindrop fell, cold and fat, splattering on my nose. The single drop was like a warning just moments before the sky opened up and I shrieked as I raced after him, his laughter barely audible over the pounding rain.

By the time I finally reached the tree line, I was drenched, we both were. My clothes were a sodden mess, the white shirt about as useful as a bucket full of holes and my hair was plastered to my cheeks and neck.

"What's wrong McNally? I know for a fact you aren't gonna melt." His dimples were out in full force, eyes twinkling with mischief as he tugged me close, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

"I'm not worried about melting I just hate the rain." Petulant again, because that was attractive. Another laugh and I arched my brow, pursing my lips. "I'm so glad you are amused." Wrinkling my nose, I glared upwards and the thunder boomed, as thought that would actually have some sort of impact on the weather, and I shifted closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Hey McNally?" The words were whispered against my wet hair, and I hummed in response, not bothering to move.

"Marry me?"


	3. Just About To Break

**What I own: The purple bedding from Twilight, some delicious Mexican vanilla and the best banana bread recipe in the entire world. Seriously. I'm willing it to people when I pass.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. I KNOW. This amazing creation belongs to Tassie Cameron, et al., I am just playing in her sandbox. I KNOW I'm making a mess with them, but I will clean them up before I return them, promise. I'm not making any money off of this work of fiction. Damnit.**

**Author's Note: I did it again. I know. I KNOW. THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER… although that was started. I don't even know why. NOT what I wanted to write, but I tried for HOURS to write Cry To Me or Set The Fire and they just would NOT cooperate. UCH. HOWEVER, this happened. It isn't happy, but it isn't horribly sad either… bittersweet maybe? I promise there is happy coming for these two down the line… like, lots of it. This is being told ridiculously out of order but that is how it is supposed to be… in my head anyway. ANYWAY! Reviews make me smile like a movie star. Questions? Comments? Song suggestions? Just want to chat? Find me on twitter, I LOVE talking. Bonus points and a shout out in a future chapter to whoever tells me what song was behind this one.**

The thunder is what woke me, the deep, rolling crashes outside the windows piercing my thin veil of sleep. I could barely hear the first drops of rain pelting the windows as I rolled over to curl against Sam. Instead of his warm, hard body I found nothing but sheets.

"Sam?" My voice was heavy and thick with sleep as I blinked my eyes, searching for him in the dark.

"Hey sweetheart." The endearment brought a smile to my lips and I felt the bed dip as he sat beside me, lacing his fingers through mine.

"Whatcha doin' up?" There was no spoken answer, just a soft sigh as he brushed my bangs from my eyes with his free hand, his calloused fingers lingering for a moment on my cheek. I knew, in that instant what was happening.

"When?" My voice broke and I could feel the tears spring to my eyes, unbidden.

"An hour." His hand dropped from my face and I could see him bow his head as a flash of blue white lightening illuminating the room.

"No." It was whispered, a futile plea. I couldn't change it, not now. We had discussed this, know that it would be a possibility, at least for a little bit longer. One, maybe two more UC ops, nothing lasting more than a month. I had fooled myself into pretending I was okay with it. I had never been a very good liar.

"I'm sorry, if I could stay…" He trailed off, we both knew the next words didn't need to be said. The skies opened with a deafening crash and rain pounded against the windows. The news and the storm both had me wide awake, my body brimming with kinetic energy. Sitting up, I tugged insistently on his shirt yanking it from his jeans before my hands worked at his belt.

"Andy, you don't nee-" The words ended in a hiss as my hand dipped into his jeans, sliding below the waistband of his boxers.

"I do need. I do." My words didn't make sense, not entirely anyway, but it didn't matter at the moment, nothing mattered except for him as I pulled him down to me.

There was nothing sweet or gentle about it, our coupling was frenzied, almost desperate. Fingers scratching across sensitive skin, shaky breaths and unabashed moans. Dirty, pretty words whispered in my ear as the storm raged outside, providing an unintended, if perfect soundtrack.

I refused to think, I couldn't allow it. If I let myself give into the thoughts, focus on anything other than here, and him, and need and feeling, I would breakdown. I knew it. I knew it was coming, and soon and so did he. The trembling hands, snapped strap of a slip as it was tossed to the floor, ragged breaths and hurried thrusts. It was almost painful and we would both bare marks the next day, jagged scratches for him, bruises for me, proof that we existed, that we needed, that we ached with want, that we were scared. That was what it came down to. Fear, it was the one thing that we never had when we were together, no matter what the situation, because we had each other, but when we were apart it was always there, haunting and pervasive, sneaking into thoughts and tainting memories like cyanide in a well.

We came hard, fast and together, my wordless wail silenced by his mouth, the tears finally slipping from my eyes.

A final kiss, whispered declarations of love and promises to be safe and return soon and he was gone.

The door clicked shut and he was gone, out into the night. And as the storm raged on, I shattered into a million, sharp-edged shards.


	4. In The Mild Issue Of Our Disgrace

**What I Own: An anklet that jingles when I walk, four of the most feminine lighter in existence and a pink bag of rainbow colored pens.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. I just play with them, I promise I will clean them up when I'm done.**

**Author's Note: So, this is a thing that has happened. It wasn't going to, but MD14 was like 'I've been waiting.' And the music was found and… yeah. This is the result. As usual with this story, it is in absolutely no order, it doesn't make sense, just another peek at the moments that make up our lives, big and little. This hasn't been beta'd because no. I can't explain why this happened it just… did. Don't hate me please.**

This wasn't happening. It wasn't, not now. Not here. On a hard uncomfortable bench in the locker room, the scent of other women's perfume and bodywash still hanging in the air, even long after the users themselves had vanished. My vision fogged and I fought back the tears that threatened to fall, futile as it was as I stared at the object in my hands. My knuckles were white as I gripped the slender piece of plastic, my mind both racing and frighteningly empty all at once.

Dates and images, so many seemingly small moments, tiny inconsequential decisions, they all added up, but to what? Between the overtime and shuffling between houses, I had obviously let things slide but this was more than I could imagine.

I'd blamed it on stress. Moving. Sam being gone, prepping for his latest UC. My dad slipping back off the wagon, AGAIN. That all made sense, right? Right. Things got forgotten. Happens all the time. I looked the other way, didn't even give a second thought.

And then the break up. It had been SPECTACULAR. Outside the Penny, in the pouring rain, an audience of, oh I don't know twenty of our closest friends and not so close co-workers watching on. Words were yelled, accusations flung. All the fire and passion that defined us now, had defined us since day one. Nothing could be easy, not with us, not ever.

That was over a month ago now. 42 days to be exact, not that I was counting. The atmosphere was still frigid between us when we saw each other, which was rare. He was doing his prep with Guns and Gangs, I was working overnights to avoid him. It wasn't a secret, and neither of us tried to hide it because where was the point.

My hands shook as I shoved the item in my pocket, I watched as first one tear, and then another splashed on my boots in quick succession. No, no, no. Not here. Tugging my hands through my hair I let out a sigh and drop my head back, staring blankly at the ceiling of the locker room. My hands, now empty knotted together, my fingers searching, almost instinctively, for something that wasn't there, hadn't been for 42 days. I had just barely kept from throwing the ring at him, just barely. Fits of pique had never really been my style but hey, a girl has to have layers.

There were questions and no answers, not a single one as I moved, almost robotically to gather my belongings and headed outside into the warm night.

Three AM and I was standing on his porch in the dark. The lights were out and this was the last place I should be, the last place I wanted to be, but the one place I needed to be. The knock was almost timid and I stared at the street, my back to the door. Maybe he hadn't heard it. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe he wasn't even home. Maybe-

"Andy?" Maybe not. My heart didn't clench a little at the sound of my given name, not when his voice was all gravely and rough with sleep. No it did not. Hands back in my pockets, fingers wrapped around the plastic, more to stop the shaking than for anything else, and I met his eyes, dark and concerned. I didn't look at his hands, I couldn't, not without the memories, but I knew where they were. One on the door and one on the frame. It's just what he did.

I open my mouth, close it again quickly, blinking back the tears because goddamnit they wouldn't go away. I always have words, weather I should say them or not, and now? Nothing. I swallow thickly, a last ditch attempt to soothe my parched throat, and meet his eyes. Dark and stormy, I could and had, lose myself in them so easily.

"I'm pregnant."

**Author's Note Numero B: The song inspiration for this one is Accidental Babies by Damien Rice because, well, reasons. **


	5. The Only Thing I'll Ever Ask Of You

**What I own: A bright pink and black corset, three pairs of jeans and a Bettie Page wig**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. If it were, things would be SO DIFFERENT.**

**Author's Note: This happened. Again. Mostly because of 'Everlong' reasons. That's the song for this chapter, specifically the Scala & Kolacny Brothers cover. I don't know why. And also because MD14 asked for more. Y'all keep me writing even when I shouldn't be. Thank you. This one is ALMOST in order! I know, I'm pretty surprised myself. Same story, it may not make a whole lot of sense, and some questions are still going to be had but it happened none the less. I hope you enjoy this round of drabble. This isn't beta'd but that is par for the course with me by now. Fragments, shifting tense, it's all mine. And it works here. **

It wasn't what I had dreamed it as a little girl, not even close. There was no church, no rows of guests, no white gown or veil. My mom wasn't there. Hell, my dad wasn't even there. There was no singing or tuxedos or fancy cars. No elaborate bouquets or special shoes.

That old rhyme though? "Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue" That was taken care of, in spades.

My dress was some diaphanous, flowy navy blue thing bought on a whim with Traci and Gail that had languished in my closet for almost a year. It was a little bit tighter than it had been originally but it hid my increasingly obvious baby bump, for the most part. A pair of Gail's earrings dangled elegantly from my ears, ( 'You can try arguing with me but you won't win.' And I didn't). Sapphires and small diamonds glinting in the early morning sunlight, she was right, they were perfect.

Sam's tie was new, despite my protests that he didn't need it. Jeans and a black t-shirt was more than enough for me, but he insisted.

The suggestion had been out of left field two mornings prior, as we lay in bed, still entwined with each other, his fingers trailing delicately over my skin.

"Let's get married." The words were muffled into the crook of my neck and I rolled my eyes. It had been a difficult month and a half, lots of ups and downs but we were together again, and things were… right, somehow, despite circumstances being as unconventional as they were.

"We are." It was true, nothing was concrete, no plans had been made, but they had been discussed, but my ring had been back on my finger for the last three weeks.

"No, I mean now. Soon." His hands were wandering again, making it ridiculously hard to concentrate. "Come on McNally, you know you want too. Besides, don't you want tadpole to have the same name as his parents?" His voice was low and I could feel his smile against my skin, that hint of pride that crept into his voice.

"First of all, we don't know it's a he, it's a bit early for all that yet, and besides…" That was it. No argument, no words to the contrary. I had absolutely nothing to argue, no points to make, no reasons why not. "Okay."

That was it. It was decided as simple as that. Paperwork was filed, blood tests were performed and squeals and hugs were given.

An old dress, a handful of white tea roses and a suit I'd seen a dozen times. Us, Oliver and Gail, and a judge whom we had both seen before in court, under very different circumstances. Words were spoken, rings were exchanged and there was a sweet kiss before we were ushered out.

It wasn't fancy, it wasn't what I had dreamed of but it was us. And it was perfect.


	6. Where We Planted The Seeds

**What I own: A lot of glitter, a purple lamp and a plethora of nursing bags.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. Still. I'm just playing, I promise to clean them up and return them mostly unharmed when I am done.**

**Author's Note: Yup. This happened. Mostly because MD14 and RadleyBoo requested baby ecstaticness. I tried. I hope it works. Once again, it might not make sense. It is in a semblance of order, but not really. There are more questions than answers, as always but it is how this works. To address something, just for a moment… This is AU. Obviously. It isn't based on anything but characters and music and moments. I'm not following the series. I haven't even seen season four. Reviews, comments and constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated, bashing and being generally negative is not. ANYWAY, a little peek at another moment. Suggested listening is 'To Build A Home' by The Cinematic Orchestra. And by suggested, of course I mean LISTEN TO IT. Thank you for reading, and traveling this crazy journey with me. Reviews make me grin like a movie star and are rewarded with babble and praise. And flailing. **

I stared at the seeds in my hand blankly, blinking against the bright sunshine and, not for the first time today, cursing myself. My sunglasses had vanished to God knows where. I think I'd had them yesterday, at some point but seeing as I could barely remember to put two shoes on before leaving the house lately, there was no way of guaranteeing weather that was yesterday or a week ago. Although two weeks ago, I could actually still tie my own shoes, or at least it seemed like it.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust as I glanced down, though fat lot of good it did. My swollen belly blocked any view I may have had of my feet. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn that little one had quadrupled in size overnight. The last two months had been a flurry of activity, between the wedding, work (although that was pretty much limited to working the desk after I started to show even just a little), selling my townhouse and moving in with Sam and just… adjusting to everything, it still hadn't all hit me, not entirely. Not until today.

The back yard was milling with people, lavender balloons gathered in bunches and streamers hanging on the porch, an obviously well planned, though VERY surprise baby shower well underway, friends and family moving easily around the yard. The smell of the searing meat from the barbeque that Oliver was currently manning had my stomach growling but I still couldn't move, my attention glued to the small, black specks in my hands.

Traci had tucked them into my hand after the gifts had been opened and appropriately ooh-ed and ahh-ed and wept over, a small note attached explaining the tradition, the same one that had been carried on in her family for several generations, though my vision clouded and tears had fallen long before I had reached the end.

I didn't know how I was going to do it. How I was supposed to transform these small, black specks into flowers, how I was supposed to nurture them, take care of them, make them come alive. I hadn't ever kept anything alive, not even bamboo. And yet, somehow, I was supposed to take care of this life, this precious, amazing little being that I already loved more than anything. How was I being allowed to do this?

I didn't bother fighting the tears, it was absolutely worthless at this point and I watched as they splashed against the bright yellow of my sundress, darkening the fabric. Surrounded by everyone I loved in the world, my family, my friends, hell even people I didn't particularly like, though it wasn't entirely Superintendent Peck's fault, I felt adrift, more lost than I could remember being in almost fifteen years, all because of a bunch of seeds.

I felt his presence before he touched me, arms wound around my waist and hands resting almost reverently on my stomach, lips pressed against my temple.

"What's wrong Sweetheart?" The words were a low and I relaxed into Sam's embrace, leaning against his chest, tears still falling freely.

"I killed bamboo." The words made almost no sense, sounded foreign and ridiculous even to me, punctuated by vain attempts to stop the hiccoughing sobs that threatened to overtake me at any moment.

The chuckle was unexpected and deep, I could feel it in his chest as his hand closed around mine, gently, tenderly, blocking the seeds from my view.

"We'll plant them together, I promise. It'll all be okay."

Such a simple declaration, uttered with such love and faith and trust. I knew it would be, I knew it with every fiber of my being in that single instant. No matter what happened, it would all be okay. The gentle pressure against my belly brought a smile to my face, pressing against Sam's hand. I knew without looking that his smile was bright, all dimples and white teeth and awe, the same way it always was when he felt our daughter move.

"It'll all be okay."


	7. I Am Small And Needy

**What I own: More blankets than one human should, a jug of sweet tea and some sparkly pink flats with multi colored glitter cap toes.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. I just play with the characters sometimes. I promise that I will return them mostly unharmed. Mostly.**

**Author's Note: Welp. Y'all knew the angst was coming. Once again, I have no idea where this came from. I am just floored by the response to this… this is absolutely my most emotional work, and I think it is obvious. The fact that y'all are willing to accompany me on this journey… I love all y'all like whoa. Remember, random moments, not all in order. Life isn't all yellow sundresses and sweet moments, there are ugly, painful ones as well and my goal with this… whatever it is, is to explore them all. I hope you like it, even though it is not happy. This isn't beta'd because I'm lazy and impatient and that's not how this story works, although maybe someday I will force Janeycakes to read it. Reviews, as always, will be rewarded with lots of babble and thanks. Today's song is Breathe Me by Sia. Because I said so.**

It's amazing how therapeutic the sound of shattering glass is. I'd never realized how much I love the sound until this moment. I stared blankly at the pile of shards on the floor, the moonlight flooding in and glinting off of the broken pieces, shining off of the amber liquid that spread slowly across my formerly clean kitchen floor.

My vision blurred, everything became hazy and I fought back the tears that burned my eyes. No. No, no, no. I wasn't going to cry, not again. Not now.

My throat still ached and the words echoed through my head. They had been screamed, back and forth, filled with passion and fire, just like everything that we did. Nothing was ever simple for us, not since day one. Although I don't think us was an applicable term any longer.

It had started innocently enough, sitting by the bar at The Penny, blowing off steam after an incredibly tough shift. We were all on edge, that kind of thing happened when you get shot at several times. Sam made some off the cuff remark about taking another job for Boyd and I froze, literally. A chill raced down my spine and I set my bottle down just a bit too hard.

Gail's icy blue eyes widened just barely, and Chis snapped his jaw shut. Dov, being Dov and practically worshiping at Sam's feet, STILL, begged for details, which Sam, not exactly begrudgingly, provided.

He was leaving. Again. The last time was supposed to be it. He had promised. Scoffing and barely holding back an adolescent hair flip, I threw some bills on the table to cover my drink and headed out into the cold night.

He followed a few minutes later, voice gruff and tone demanding. What was my problem? That did it. Those words, that question. The fact that he had to ask at all was the problem. He knew. He knew what my problem was, he just asked because he could.

There were tears and insults. Name calling and futile pushing. Ever stupid cliché in the book was hurled, words spit angrily, dripping with venom and fear. Buttons were pushed and an audience grew, standing silent and hypnotized.

It was a whispered 'Go.' That finished it all, and he did. In the truck, tires squealing as he tore out of the parking lot.

I'd walked home, the bitter cold almost freezing the tears on my cheeks. They wouldn't stop, didn't until I got home.

And then there was nothing. I'd grabbed the bottle of scotch, fully intending on draining its contents. Instead, somehow, it ended shattered against the wall, the delightful crash resounding through the house. I followed it with first one glass, then two, and then, finally four, that shards tinkling against each other as they rained down to the tile floor.

I was exhausted, drained… done. There was nothing left in me as shook despite the warm air of the house. Sliding down the wall, I landed hard on the floor, resting my head on my knees and reveling in the silence.

The worst part was there was no one else to blame.


	8. An Angel Kissin' On A Sinner

**What I own: A bag of -ground salted caramel coffee that I am waiting to open because once I do that it will start being less, the first two seasons of Veronica Mars on DVD (because she is Veronica Mars for fucks's sake) and about 17 purple eyeshadow compacts. I have brown eyes. What? DON'T JUDGE ME.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, they are not mine. If they were, well, let's just say things would have gone in a whole other direction. I just like to play with them and make them do things they may not otherwise.**

**Author's Note: Okay, so. I love you guys. Yes? YES. So much. The alerts and reviews and love… they make me dance like Andy in the kitchen… just without Luke cause nope. This story, as I said in the beginning, is not told entirely in order, nor is it anywhere close to being done. Some chapters have come out in something resembling a chronological fashion but for the most part? They are all willy nilly. I promise Andy wasn't drinking and pregnant in the last chapter. This is, as always, kind of disjointed but happy, I think. To my guest reviewer, I am not following canon, not entirely and absolutely not following season four. This is an AU fic, and I absolutely take liberties with the characters and what they do. ANYWAY. This hasn't been beta'd because reasons and no. Janeycakes would clean it all up if she could but I like it better all kinds of messy. I love her though, for real. The song this chapter is The Trapeze Swinger by Iron & Wine. Listen and love. Questions, comments, song suggestions are welcome. Reviews make me grin like Andy. It's true. Enjoy y'all!**

I hated desk duty, hated it with all that I was. Sitting in one spot all day, fielding questions and answering calls, forcing a smile into my voice, after all, I was the face of the station, or so Best tried to convince me. It didn't work. I still hated it, though after a shockingly close call my last day on patrol, I wasn't going to take any chances, and neither was anyone else.

I could smell the paint still hanging in the air, faint and slightly bitter as I entered the house. It was funny, still, how much this had truly become a home. Images of my first visit here came flashing to my mind, unbidden: The night of the blackout, the need, want, desperation and unbridled fire that had always been such an integral part of who we were, even back then.

Dropping my bag with a huff, I rest my hand on my swollen belly, rubbing it gently. Baby girl was active today, which was not unusual. Sam Swarek's daughter couldn't be anything but. I head up the stairs, following the soft strains of what I now knew was Rush coming from the guest room.

"Hey Sam I-"My voice trailed off as I took in the sight before me. My husband, clad in jeans and a black t-shirt, both splattered with pale lavender paint that now covered the walls, was seated in the middle of the floor surrounded by darkly stained wood as he assembled what looked to be a crib. Tears sprang to my eyes almost instantly, slipping down my cheeks.

His smile was all blinding white teeth and dimples as he stood and crossed the room in a few strides, wrapping one strong arm around me, even as a paint spattered thumb brushed against my cheek.

"Why the tears Sweetheart?" His voice was low and sweet, and I felt my heart skip a beat, as always, at the endearment. Dragging my palms over my cheeks, I shook my head and laughed, the sound somehow mixing with a sob as I gestured aimlessly around the room.

"It's beautiful." And it was, it wasn't finished, it was honestly barely started, but it was still perfect.

A soft chuckle and a gentle rub of his hand on my belly, a feather light kiss against my lips and his hand was wrapped around mine, gently pulling me toward the window. The frame gleamed a bright and shiny white, the watery afternoon sun filtering through the glass, a gentle breeze blowing in and combining with the ceiling fan, catching both my hair and the hem of my pale green dress as Sam stood behind me. His breath was warm against my ear and a hand rested protectively on my swollen belly, the other pointing out into the back yard.

"I can see you there by the rose bush laughing." I followed his hand, smiling as I saw the freshly turned up earth where we had planted the seeds from Traci by the fence, digging and dropping and tamping the dirt down together, just like he had promised.

The tears came again then, though I'm not sure if they had ever stopped, and I laced my fingers tightly with his, turning my head to look up at the man I was spending the rest of my life with.

"You really think that I can keep the rose bushes alive long enough to laugh by them?" My track record with plants was, as Sam knew, not exactly wonderful.

"No, Andy, I don't think you can." My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to protest only to be silenced by a finger on my lips. "But I know that we can. Together."

I couldn't doubt him in that moment, not for any moment ever, really. He was right, as always. We could, and would, do it together.


	9. If Ever Your World Starts Crashing Down

**What I Own: A Tinkerbell container full of Jordan Almonds, some orange sugar body spray and a blue rhinestone peacock headband.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. Still. I'm just playing in the sandbox, I promise I will clean them up when I am done.**

**Author's Note: Okay, this is classic Ghost… the song came on, I couldn't lose the idea… Sound familiar? Cause it should. This does NOT take place in order because reasons. I PROMISE this is not the last chapter, nor is it exactly what it seems… except that it is. I know, I confuse myself sometimes too. ANYWAY, this isn't beta'd because nope. All mistakes are mine. Reviews are responded to with love and thanks and they make me smile like a movie star. I promise happy in the next chapter, pinky swear. This chapter's song is All Fall Down by One Republic. Listen and enjoy. **

I felt it seemingly before I heard the shot.

Pain. That was all I felt. It was seemingly endless, a blinding,. white hot ache that blossomed through my body as I fell.

Time seemed to stop in that moment, each second passing as an eternity as the ground moved up to meet me.

This was wrong, it wasn't supposed to happen like this, I had so much more left to do.

My breath came in strangled gasps, wet and strained as I struggled to just breathe, to regulate the most basic of functions.

The images flashing through my mind terrified me as they flickered one after another, some overly bright, the colors hauntingly saturated and others dull and faded, the edges fading quickly to black.

The collision with the ground pulled me back to the present my palms the first to hit the gravel, the tiny, jagged stones bringing an almost blissful awareness. If I could feel pain that was good, right?

I could hear the voices calling my name, screaming, the footsteps crunching against the tiny stones, sirens in the distance.

"Andy. Andy come on, keep breathing." The words were a command instead of a question, my husband's familiar voice wavered with fear as he grasped my hand.

"You're gonna be okay Sweetheart, you're gonna be okay." He repeated the words like a mantra as I sucked in each ragged breath, the warmth on the side of my shirt spreading as I struggled to get up.

"No, stay down, the medics will be here in a minute. Come on just breathe with me. Come on McNally, you know how to do this."

I did, or at least I should. In and out, it wasn't a hard concept but each breath, each struggle for air, sent a flare of pain across my ribs but I still listened, I couldn't not. It was Sam beside me, his voice, scared and insistent in my ear, his hand grasping mine so hard it almost hurt. He was scared. So was I.

"Grace." My voice cracks at the single word and I don't bother fighting the tears, hot and sudden that fall down my cheeks at the thought of the tiny little girl with dark curls and her daddy's dimples.

"She's fine. She is at daycare and you'll see her soon, I promise. You are gonna be okay. You have to be. " Warm lips pressed against my hand, and All I could smell was him, that familiar blend of dryer sheets, leather and spice that was intrinsically HIM. It seemed to intoxicate me as a dark wave passed over my eyes and I slipped into unconsciousness.


	10. So Let Me Be The One To Lift You Up

**What I own: A gaggle of chick flicks that I can't bring myself to watch, an I-pod that doesn't work and a cakesicle maker.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. Not even in my dreams. I just play with them**

**Author's Note: Two in one day. I don't even know either. You can blame (or thank) MD14 for this one, she requested it SPECIFICALLY and I couldn't say no. Remember, this does NOT take place in order. This is a direct continuation of a prior chapter, though the odds of one chapter picking up exactly where another left off is very, very rare but… MARYS ASKED AND I HAD TO OKAY? OKAY! I don't THINK this is gonna cause any angst, although I did cry while writing it because… reasons. As always, not beta'd because allllll the reasons. But Janeycakes still wins. Questions? Comments? Scene suggestions? PM or find me on Twitter, I love to talk. I promise I will get on my review replies soon, I know I have been slacking like whoa. The song for this chapter is Angels in Everything by Blue October and MY LAWD THE FEELS. I hope I did it justice and I really, really, REALLY hope that y'all like this, it just… yeah. Enjoy.**

The silence was heavy and nearly palpable as we stared at each other in the dark. Even the crickets had stopped chirping, that grating sound would be more than welcome at the moment. Crickets, cicadas, hell even gunshots. Something to break the silence.

I don't know how long we stood there for, in the quiet, underneath the stars, just taking each other in. My own words still ran in a constant loop through my mind. I always had words, no matter what and here, now, when it actually mattered? Nothing.

I watched him intently. He was bare chested, light cotton pajama pants low on his hips. I recognized them, had even worn them once when the doorbell rang early one Sunday morning. Judging by the wrinkles that I could see even in the dim porch light, they had been hastily thrown on. His hair stuck up in all directions and my fingers literally twitched, wanting so badly to smooth it down. But it was his eyes that had me captivated.

Sam Swarek was not one to show his emotions, not to anyone if he could help it. It's what made him so good at what he did, especially undercover. He once told me, in a candid, post-coital moment, as we both slowly came down from the exquisite high, that he could hide anything from anyone except for me and Sara. He could lie and dance around the truth about anything but we would always see the truth in his eyes.

I saw struggled to see it now as I watched the emotions flicker over his face in the dim haze of the porch light, one after another as I held his gaze, unable and unwilling to look away.

Seconds passed, maybe minutes, time seemed to move both lightening quick and painfully, fearfully slow at the same time as we stood, gazes locked.

"Are you, I mean- Did you?" He stumbled over the words and, had it been any other situation, I would have laughed at the absurdity of it all.

My words were still frozen somewhere in my throat, I could feel them stuck there, almost choking me but they refused to move. I nodded mutely, my bangs falling in front of my eyes as I fished in my pocket for that piece of plastic, retrieving it by the slender handle and holding it out wordlessly, the single word seeming to shine in the overhead light.

He reached out to take it and our fingers brushed together, just the smallest bit and I felt that familiar fire race over my skin, that yearning that I'd felt almost constantly since that night, every time I saw him.

Time stopped as we looked, seemingly into each other's souls, and the tears started again, flowing down my cheeks as I watched him stare down at the item in his hands, the barest hint of a smile visible from where I stood.

His movement was swift and he crossed the small porch in just two strides, wrapping his strong, familiar arms tightly around me and pulled me near. I collapsed into him, tears splashing into bare skin as I clung to him with everything that I was. He lifted me easily and I allowed it, reveled in it, in the closeness, the warmth, the sheer comfort as he headed inside, kicking the door shut behind us.

Settling on the couch, I remained on his lap, his hands absently stroking my back, the soft, soothing circles causing my sobs to subside as I gave in to the exhaustion that had been building for seemingly longer than I could remember as I let my eyes drift closed, his words whispered into my ear as I drifted to sleep.

"You will never have to be alone."


	11. If You Stay I Would Even Wait All Night

What I own: A packet of custom blended strawberry chocolate tea, six pairs of glasses and a rhinestone encrusted phone case.

What I don't: Rookie Blue. Not mine. Nope. Although I do love to play with them. I promise to return them all mostly okay.

Author's Note: So, this happened. Thank you all so much for all of your support and kind words. Not even lying, I do a happy dork dance every time I get an alert. I'm more than a little awed about how awesome y'all are, for real. This one is for MD14 and RadleyBoo because they wanted more words and who am I to say no? The song for this chapter is "Summertime" by My Chemical Romance because reasons. Reviews make me grin like a movie star and are rewarded with copious babble and thanks. I hope y'all enjoy!

The night breeze was cool as it blew across my face, catching the ends of my hair with it and blowing them in front of my eyes. It blocked my already limited view of the yard and I tugged the light blanket tighter around my shoulders as my bare foot pushed easily off the painted floor of the porch before tucking it underneath me.

It was a beautiful fall night, the stars twinkling overhead and the scent of autumn hanging in the air, that crisp, rich blend of leaves and smoke bringing back memories of childhood camp outs and long weekends spent in the country.

I tightened my grip on the blanket and inhaled deeply, desperate for even the slightest hint of the familiar scent that clung to the soft material.

The moonlight caught my hand as I moved the stones on my ring glittering in the silvery blue light and I felt, not for the first time, that familiar pang in my chest, accompanied by so many thoughts, swirling rapid fire through my mind. It all boiled down to one thing though, the myriad of questions, of phrases, all turning into one thought that haunted me: What if he doesn't come home?

It had been over a month since Sam had left on what he had promised would be his last UC, thirty seven days, to be exact. Not that I was counting.

Thirty seven days since I had held him, touched him, even heard his voice.

Thirty seven days of worry and fear of wondering when he would come home.

I knew that it was what he loved, what he did and I didn't fault him that, I couldn't because I was the same way about my job, it was my life.

But the uncertainty, the not knowing, the jumping every time the phone rang it was worse than I had anticipated. But I still understood.

I stared up at the stars, a smile pulling at my lips as a small flash zoomed across my vision. My eyes closed automatically, the childhood tradition coming back to me all of a sudden, and I whispered my wish, barely audible into the dark night.

"You know if you say it out loud it won't come true." The voice drifted to me from the darkness by the tree at the side of house and I almost felt my heart stop. I could hear the smile behind the words even if I couldn't see it. He was home.

I didn't think, just threw my blanket down and jumped out of the swing and ran down the steps. The ground was cold and the bare leaves crunched beneath my feet as I flew across the small space and threw myself into the familiar, open arms.

I didn't realize I was crying until his rough thumb gently brushed across my cheek, swiping the tears away.

"You miss me Sweetheart? You didn't mind waiting? " He mumbled against my head and I pulled back to meet his gaze. I narrowed my eyes, pushing playfully against his shoulder, unable to hide my smile.

"Every single day."


	12. Every Star Fall Brought You to Tears

What I own: The first and last seasons of Flashpoint on DVD, a year's worth of Birchboxes and a fantastic recipe for vegan chocolate cake.

What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. I just like to play with them.

Author's Note: So yeah, it's been awhile. Between being sick and fighting with a RL that has it out for me, I've had no time to write, and when I did sit down to write, nothing happened. I'm so sorry it took me so long to update, the words would just NOT come out. I'm not entirely thrilled with this chapter, but it is what it is, to paraphrase Sam. I'm hoping to be back with weekly updates soon, as long as things cooperate. I'm supposed to be working but the idea popped into my head and just needed to happen. Y'all are the absolute greatest and I hope you enjoy. As usual, this is out of order because it is how I roll. Thank you all for the alerts and reviews and pep talks. Marys, I hope you enjoy. I don't usually reuse songs but this one is just… yeah, beyond perfect. Helena by My Chemical Romance. Listen and love. As always, reviews are rewarded with copious thanks and babble.

"What's the worst that I could say?" The words were casual but I knew that the fear that crept in behind them was evident, not only to Sam but to Grace who squirmed in my arms.

It was a beautiful evening, the sunset painting the sky with bright streaks of pink and orange that gradually faded into a dusty, dark purple. I pushed my bare foot off the floor of the porch, rocking the swing just slightly to soothe my little girl who quickly ceased her movement, her dark brown eyes, so much like her father's drifting closed.

It was quiet, almost unusually so, the sporadic chirp of the crickets and the soft creak of the swing the only noises in the warm night.

When I was younger I would dream about this moment, over and over, when I still held out hope, just after Claire had left. I wished on falling stars and birthday candles. When the clock struck 11:11 and pennies on the street. I prayed and pleaded, and bargained but it all went unanswered. That lasted about a year before I gave up hope. No calls, no letters, not a word, she had just vanished and taken a part of me with her. I struggled to push her, the bits and pieces of faded memories that remained, to the back of my mind and in time the wounds that she had caused long since pushed to the back of my mind, hidden deep inside where they couldn't do anymore harm.

The change had been subtle, creeping in when I least expected it. A thought here, a moment of wonder there, beginning just after I had found out I was pregnant. There was fear, at first, although Sam had assured me that it was unfounded, holding me tight and whispering sweet nonsense when I woke up crying in the middle of the night, terrified that I would end up like her, reassuring words and a strong safe embrace.

The moment I first held her in my arms, I knew that I could never do it; I could never leave my child no matter what the circumstances. I went over it in my head night after night, as I rocked in the mahogany chair in the nursery, trying and failing to figure out how Claire had just... left. I never had any answers, not even partial ones, just more questions.

The crunch of tires on gravel followed a few moments later but a car door closing had me tensing up, the breath catching in my chest.

The swing rocked as Sam sat beside me, dropping an arm over my shoulders and pressing a kiss against my head.

"You know you don't have to do this Andy." He was right, as always.

"I do have to; I have to at least try." The waver in my voice gave away my fear though I knew that he could see it anyway. His strong hand wrapped easily around mine and he looked down at the dozing infant in my arms, nothing but love in his eyes as the lo0w hum of the doorbell chimed through the house.

"I'll be here." He didn't say much, and the words were brief, but the promise that they held, the quiet comfort gave me strength. I stood slowly, taking a shaky breath as I handed Grace to her father and brushed my hands over my shirt, tugging nervously at the hem before I headed into the house. My footfalls were silent on the wood floors as I navigated through the dimly lit house.

My hand shook as I opened the door and my breath caught as I laid eyes on a woman I hadn't seen in almost fifteen years. She looked nothing like I remembered and yet, at the same time, exactly the same and I felt all the feelings, the betrayal, the hurt, the loss come rushing back in a flash and I fought to blink back the tears that formed before they could slide down my cheeks.

"Claire."


	13. Never fade in the dark

**What I own: More tank tops than any one person has a right to, two seasons of Flashpoint on DVD and some tortilla soup.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, STILL not mine. I just like to play with them. I promise I will clean them up when I am finished.**

**Author's Note: So, This happened. It's angsty and brief and all kinds of sad. I fully blame the song because music has more power over me than I care to admit. As usual, this isn't beta'd because that is how this story works. It is, however, out of sequence… because that is how this story goes. Y'all seriously are amazing and every single review and alert make me happy dork dance. Today's song is The Light Behind Your Eyes by My Chemical Romance. It breaks my heart. Listen and try not to cry. As always, reviews are rewarded with much babble and thanks.**

There are moments in life that you think you are prepared for. However, no amount of reading or studying or practice can ever, ever really prepare you for what will happen. I'd only had a few moments like that in my life and for that I supposed I was lucky. My first day at 15 sprung to mind, of course, cause there was no way in hell I could have been prepared for that, but looking back on it, I suppose things worked out for the best. But that day, no matter how out there it had been didn't even come close to today, not for a moment.

I could hear screaming, heart wrenching pleas, but I couldn't place it, couldn't figure out where exactly it was coming from. I blinked back tears which were forming… why? And then it hit me. The screaming. The tears. It added up. It was me.

Everything was a blur as I looked around, trying to push myself up to no avail. Small hands rested on my shoulders, just hard enough to keep me from sitting up and I could faintly hear Traci's reassuring voice in my ear, low and familiar.

Relax.

Breathe.

In and out.

You'll be okay.

I wanted to believe her, I really did but I couldn't, not yet. Wincing at the flash of pain, I swallowed thickly, pushing back the sob that threatened to escape as the pieces started to fall into place, the fragments flashing to and fro behind my closed eyes.

Something was very, very wrong.

I couldn't remember how the man had gotten away from Gail and Dov but he had, somehow, as he was being booked.

A flash of movement out of the corner of my eye and hands on my arms, pushing me aside.

Pain.

A rush of warmth.

Heavy boots clattering against the floor.

Panic shouts from the normally cool as a proverbial goddamn cucumber Gail.

I could hear sirens, faintly in the distance, the shrill screaming seeming somehow appropriate.

I could feel the tears on my cheeks as things slipped into place, everything seemed to fit.

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. Not now. It was too early. Way too early.

I struggled to catch my breath and looked up, meeting the eyes of my coworkers and friends that stood around me. Dov was there. Noelle. Oliver. Gail. Traci. But not Sam.

"Where is he? He needs to be here."

I didn't need to elaborate, they knew, and so did I. Gail crouched down and grasped my hand, her voice wavering.

"He's on his way."

That was it.

"It can't happen, not yet. It's too early."

I could hear my words, although they were distant, as were those of the people that surrounded me, they were slow and distant as if I was underwater. I couldn't remember speaking them, and my vision clouded and another flash of pain gripped me, my hand tightening around Gail's for an instant before the lights dimmed and everything went black.


End file.
